


In His Eyes

by PaperCities



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Spies & Secret Agents, Asphyxiation, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, BAMF everyone, Body Worship, Cigarettes, Daichi is in for a surprise, Daishou is violent, Everyone is in love!!, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, F/M, Forbidden Love, Intense, James Bond AU, Kageyama is the noob intern, Light BDSM, M/M, Multi, Oikawa is sexy, Painplay, Prostitution, Rough Kissing, Sawamura Daichi in Love, Sexual Violence, Shit will go down, Smoking, Stupid Boys, Suga is helpless
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-14
Updated: 2016-11-06
Packaged: 2018-08-15 02:36:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8039134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PaperCities/pseuds/PaperCities
Summary: It’s the same man again. Same tender eyes and soft beauty mark.Daichi stares, jaws slack, at the beautiful man standing next to the one man in the world who he was assigned to destroy.In which Daichi and Suga can’t help falling deeper into the rabbit hole of forbidden love. Spy/James Bond AU where Suga is the lover of a Japanese terrorist and Daichi is an American spy who’s never felt so conflicted in his life.





	1. Chaos Theory

**Author's Note:**

> HEY ALLLL!!!! :D
> 
> Welcome to another of my impulse stories 101!!!
> 
> Sooooo, I holed myself up for a whole weekend to watch all the James Bond movies ANDDD I thought "what if Daichi were a CIA agent and Suga were the bad guy?"
> 
> This story happened!!!
> 
> Like my other stories, this one will have graphic stufffsss! So be warned!!
> 
> ALSO, there will be really dark themes (AKA Rape, prostitution, drugs, beating up people, twisted mind games, violence, and using people to hurt other people. Yayyy!!). 
> 
> Yeahhhh, be on edge! :D:D:D:D:D
> 
> This fic will be most like Skyfall and Casino Royale, just the bad guys will have different plans! Daishou's gonna be kinda mad..... :)
> 
> Now that you know, those of you who I have not scared off, PLEASE ENJOY!!!
> 
> Questions, comments, concerns, suggestions? Feel free to contact me! :D:D:D:D

 

 

_The Chaos Theory, better known as the Butterfly effect, states that even the smallest changes can have large effects._

 

 

**Prague, Czech Republic**

 

 

                It was the stranger’s hair that caught him off guard.

 

                A silvery, misty color that glowed in the winter sun.

 

                Daichi glances at him again.

 

                The man sat on the café table to the far opposite side of Daichi’s.

 

                He wore a large white trench coat, simple white slacks and a cream collared shirt. Everything polished looking and pristine.

 

                Daichi can’t help but wonder if he always wore light colors.

 

                Mr. Beauty Mark was absolutely stunning, doe eyes gazing off to the water surrounding Charles Bridge, small hands clutching a steaming mug of Americano.

 

                He had a couple of old looking novels stacked on the table, next to the tiny flower vase and candle.

 

                It was a quiet little town with an old fashioned charm, complete with cobblestone roads and outdoor vendors, so Daichi was surprised to see someone so different here.

 

                The locals were also quite taken by his beauty, it seemed, as everyone stopped to marvel at him.

 

                The male looks up, the two of them catching eyes.

 

                He smiles and Daichi can see his beauty mark scrunch, hidden under smile lines.

 

                Oh, he is gorgeous.

 

                Though, he had an odd reserved air around him.

 

                Daichi smiles back, giving a slight tip of his head.

 

                He knows he can’t get distracted; after all, this case was specifically assigned to him for his widely known expertise.

 

                He can’t fuck this one up.

 

                And, lord, was this case important.

 

                If he missed his target, Daishou Suguru, a Japanese terrorist, then all the nations in the world would be threatened.

 

                He would be able to destroy everything with a touch of a button.  

 

                As far as they knew, Daishou was in Prague.

 

For what reason, though, was the real question. 

 

Daichi was the man assigned to track and hunt him down if that was the last thing he ever did.

 

He takes another sip of his tea.

 

Tomorrow, he would finally start the mission, but for now, he was merely a visitor, appreciating the Prague sunset.

 

                His gaze flicks back to Mr. Beauty Mark, who had finished his coffee and rose to leave.

 

                He lays down more than a generous amount of money on the French table and gathers his books.

 

                The sun baths him in golden light, his hair reflecting the hues of pink and orange.

 

                The man turns to give Daichi one final smile before setting off, clutching his leather satchel.

 

                Daichi doesn’t miss the gold of his awfully expensive watch or the starling green gleam of a gemstone ring.

               

                He doesn’t know why that strikes him so much, even as the minutes tick away and the man is out of sight.

 

                It is emerald perhaps?

 

                No.

 

                Daichi can recall seeing a slightly pinkish tinted shift in color as it reflected artificial light from the stores nearby.

 

                Alexandrite?

 

                He mentally shakes himself. Why did he care so much?

 

                It doesn’t matter; they’ll never see each other again.

 

                Yet….

 

                His eyes wander back to where the stranger sat, only to notice a checkered cream scarf lying on the edge of the table.

 

                He shoots up, striding over to gently take the scarf.

 

                Cashmere.

 

                The breeze picks up a sweet scent that drifts to Daichi.

 

                It smelled just as Daichi imagined. Soft and fleeting.

 

                He lays some money out on his table and rushes to the direction the man had gone.

 

 

XXX

 

 

                Suga leans back on the antique chaise lounge sofa.

 

                He was on the balcony of _his_ mansion, overlooking the Vltava River and seeing the dimness of the lampposts on Charles Bridge.  

 

                It was a looming thing, built with heavy stones and white marble. Two grand staircases sweep up from either sides of the main entrance, leading up to an open balcony with marble arches.

 

                Lush cypress trees and hydrangea bloom in hanging gardens from the towering columns.

 

                _He_ had bought the house because Suga had mentioned a liking for European mansions.

 

                Suga hates it.

 

                It’s not that the house wasn’t nice –it was lovely, a masterpiece— but Suga couldn’t stand the feeling that washed over him whenever he stepped foot onto the property.

 

                It made him feel….. unnerved. 

 

                He remembers the warm feeling of when the handsome brunette stranger had smiled at him.

 

                The main door slams from below.

 

                Suga shuts his eyes, praying that _he_ won’t look for him out here on the balcony.

 

                He doesn’t think he can take it tonight.

 

                He feels like he’s suffocating.

 

                _His_ scent envelopes him, a sickly sweet scent, and Suga realizes that he’s trembling.

 

                Cold hands cup his chin, tilting his head back to press their lips together.

 

                Cold, so cold.

 

                He bites Suga’s lower lip, hard enough for the silver haired boy to taste blood.

 

                Suga blinks back tears, shaking hands reaching up to take the man’s wrists.

 

                “Welcome home.”

 

                He hates the way his voice reflects his fear.

 

                Daishou Suguru’s thin lips spread into a devilish smile.

 

                He spins Suga around before he can take another breath, pressing his freezing frame into Suga’s warmth.

 

                His breathe hitches.

 

                _This_. This is what he hated.

 

                Not the house, not Daishou, but his situation.

 

                _“That’s him?”_

_“Sugawara Koushi, age 17. What, you want him?”_

_Daishou nods._

Teeth nip at his collarbones, hands roam under his shirt.

 

                “S-Suguru!”

 

                Suga arches into him.

 

                He didn’t want this.

 

                He _doesn’t_ want this.

 

                Green eyes look back at him as he’s heaved up into strong arms and carried to the bedroom.

 

                There’s a flash of a gentle man sitting at a café.

 

                “Please,” Suga cries. “I can’t—!”

_“You’re too young to be doing this.”_

 

                _“Human trafficking, huh?”_

Suga doesn’t notice that he’s weeping, hot tears running down his cheeks.

 

                Daishou pauses, leaning down to press kisses to the corner of his eyes, licking his tears.

 

                Suga stares at the promise ring on his right hand.

 

                If only it were for something as conventional as engagement.

 

                And suddenly, he realizes that he had left his scarf at the café.

 

 

XXX

 

 

                Daichi returns back to the grand hotel, with the scarf safely tucked into his jacket, safe from the evening rain.

 

                He can’t stop thinking about golden brown eyes and silver hair.

 

                Perhaps he would come around to the café sometime to see if the man would be there.

 

                The hotel phone rings.

 

                There were only a couple of people who would call on there.

 

                His boss or the terrorists.

 

                “Hello?”

 

                He had long known to never state his name unless asked.

 

                “Sawamura,” Ushijima says. Of course, it’s his boss. “I reckon that you now have a clear map of the city?”

 

                “Yes, sir, everything is set,” he keeps his tone stern and business like.

 

                Ushijima Wakatoshi was one of those people who Daichi would rather do a suicide mission for than see angry.

 

                Because everyone knew, at least the suicide mission had some percent of survival. Upsetting Ushijima, on the other hand…..

 

                “That’s good to hear. I just wanted to inform you of another suspect in the case.”

 

                Daichi wasn’t surprised.

 

                If the terrorist plan was actual and serious, then Daishou Suguru would need more than just a couple of henchmen.                 

 

                “Does he work for Daishou?” he asks, holding the phone between his ear and shoulder while flipping through his target folder.

 

                “That is what we’re unsure of,” Ushijima says, voice stoic. “He’s not family, that’s obvious, but we can’t place exactly what he is to Daishou.”

 

                “What do you mean? Wouldn’t he just be a friend or accomplice?” Daichi questions, stopping on a file.

 

                Ushijima seemed hesitant.

 

                “They seem closer than friends, but we can’t be sure,” he says. “Track him along with Daishou, I’ll send you his file.”

 

                “Ok, got it, thank you.”

 

                Daichi is about to hang up.

 

                “Sawamura?”

 

                “Yes?”

 

                “Be on guard, this man is rather odd.”

 

                Daichi considers asking about it, but decides to drop it. He’ll read it in the file later, anyways.

 

                “Alright, I’ll try to be as alert as possible.”

 

                He hangs up.

 

                A few seconds later, he receives a file on his laptop.

 

                He clicks it open to reveal a name: Sugawara Koushi.

 

                The picture is of a lovely _brunette_ boy, dressed in a military academy uniform, obviously in his late teens.  

 

                Daichi reads into his file.

 

                Apparently, this Sugawara Koushi was quite the devil.

 

                Directly from age seventeen, he transitioned from an excellent military academy trainee to Japanese mafia, with no indication of why or how.

 

                With his training in the arms and genius intelligence, he managed to hit the list of the top most dangerous people in the world, alongside criminals and gang leaders.

 

                While he took part in no real crimes, theories are that he is the master mind behind many of the ones that take place.

 

                If Daishou Suguru was actually working closely with this guy, there would be serious issues.

 

                Daichi frowns.

 

                Why does he look so familiar?

 

                Maybe it was the eyes. Soft round things that gleamed prettily.

 

                Where had Daichi seen them before?

 

                A shrill _ding_ signals another file.

 

                It’s pictures of Sugawara with Daishou.

 

                In one picture, Sugawara and Daishou have their heads together, deep in a discussion.

 

                In another blurry security footage, they were shown with their arms around each other.

 

                Daichi can’t help but feel like he’s intruding on a private matter. A very _very_ private matter.

 

                The final picture is from a hotel in Las Vegas, where the two were seen at the private pools together.

 

                Apparently, they shared a same room.

 

                Daichi frowns once again.

 

                No crime partners would ever risk sharing a room, lest they both get taken in by enemies.

 

                Perhaps…

 

_No, no, Daichi. Don’t get ahead of yourself._

 

                The last time he jumped to conclusion….

 

                He rises from his seat with a heavy sigh.

 

                That was a long time ago. That doesn’t matter now.

 

                And yet, it did, because it ended with the loss of _her_.

 

                Daichi takes a change of undergarments and his pajamas, feet padding softly on the marble floors.

 

 

XXX

 

 

                Suga lays on the edge of the bed.

 

                Daishou had long since left for a conference. At night. At 2 AM.

 

                He draws the covers up, pulling them around his shoulders.

 

                From the open French doors, he can hear rain pattering and feel the coolness of the wind.  

 

                He shivers, pressing deeper into the warmth of the bed comforter.

 

                There’s a sticky substance sliding out of him, but he can’t bring himself to move his hand down to see if it were blood or semen.

 

                Daishou had been especially rough, so he must have been stressed about something. 

 

                Suga shifts, feeling how his hair mats his forehead.

 

                He decides he can’t sleep, so he gets up as gently as possible, to keep the body fluids inside of his body.

 

                His footsteps alert his bodyguard, Asahi, who stood outside of the door.

               

                “Suga?” He calls in. “Shouldn’t you be sleeping?”

 

                He curses as hot semen runs down his thighs. There’s a smear of blood from where he can see.

 

                “Yeah, sorry, I just need to take a shower,” he calls back. “You should go get some rest, Asahi.”

 

                The bodyguard pauses.

 

                “Are you okay?”

 

                Suga hesitates.

 

                “I’m good. Go rest up!”

 

                He doesn’t wait for an answer before hopping into the shower and turning it on for scalding hot water.

 

                He flinches at the burning water.

 

                Daishou always showered in cold water, which is probably a reason why Suga was so stubborn to take his in hot water.

 

                He scrubs at his body, taking the time to gently clean out the semen and blood.

 

                When he had finally come out of the bathroom, he sunk into the mattress and spent the rest of the morning waiting for the sun to rise. 

 

 

               

 

                  

 


	2. Crescendo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He keeps his back to her. 
> 
> No. Him.
> 
> “Daishou Suguru is your oyabun, but…you’re not the onna-oyabun, right, Oikawa Tooru?” 
> 
> Daichi turns.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY HEY HEY!!!  
> I'm back!
> 
> THANK YOU GUYS SO MUCH FOR THE POSITIVE REINFORCEMENTS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! <3<3<3<3
> 
> I really felt obligated to continue this fic because you guys liked it and it made me fell pumped to write it!!!!!!!  
> I feel like this is one of the longest chapters I ever written, but you guys deserve it, after SUCH a long wait!!!!!!!!!!! 
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy this chapter! It's going to go down!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
> :D:D:D:D:D:D:D
> 
> Questions, comments, concerns, suggestions? Feel free to contact me!!!! :):):):)

 

 

 

_And in that moment, the crescendo of fire was all I heard..._

 

 

 

                Daichi hurries down the cobblestone steps, eyes in careful watch of a tiny azul colored sign.

 

                It’s a base for members of Daishou’s gang, and if Daichi could find it, he’d be one step closer to finding the targeted man.

 

                He runs a hand through his hair to straighten his jutting locks.

 

                Daishou’s loyalties were extremely tight knit, not to mention observant and judgmental.

 

                Daichi had to look presentable, melt in with the crowd of high class foreigners.

 

                He wonders if being half Japanese will make him stand out more.

 

                No, the man himself was of Japanese descent.

 

There should be no issue, not to mention the fact that Daichi’s loan from the American government for the mission was millions of dollars.

 

Prague was an odd city, with winding roads that trekked down lush hills, marble rails holding the floor up.

 

From the path on the hill, Daichi can see the gleam of the city lights reflecting in the water of the river, the red of the buildings turning orange from the setting sun. 

 

Thoughts of yesterday serve as a reminder of the beautiful man.

 

A tiny part of Daichi wished that the man had something to do in the case.

 

The cashmere scarf is still tucked beneath the velvet folds of his vest and suit jacket.

 

                He wanted to see the man again. Wanted to associate the scarf with a name.

 

The other majority of his being wanted to punch himself in the face.

 

                Because, how dare he think of something irrelevant to the case? How dare he, who lost _her_ , think of another in _that_ way?      

 

                His brown eyes catch the sudden flash of stark blue in the contrast to the flecks of grey and umber of the bricks on the thick walls.

 

                It’s right next to an ominous alley.

 

                Daichi almost stops to ponder the cliché of the moment.

 

                Because of course it would be in a dark corridor with no living being in sight.

 

                Of course he was alone.

 

                Of course he had an earpiece connected to the main team.

 

                Of course he wore a pair of contact lens that let the team see through his views.

 

                Of course he had tricks up his sleeve.

 

                A chirpy, youthful voice travels through his earpiece.

 

                _“Ok Daichi-san, right down the alley, there’s hidden finger scan on the brick three spaces to the left of the door.”_

 

                Yamaguchi Tadashi was the new communication director for all of the agents, using his advanced programs to hack into difficult- to- obtain items and scans.

 

                And God was he good at it.

 

                Daichi mutters a word of understanding as he reaches the turn and sweeps his eyes quickly to find the scanner.

 

                Yamaguchi’s voice sounds again.

 

_“Go ahead; I already cataloged a correct finger print.”_

 

                That genius. Always two steps ahead.

 

                Daichi presses his forefinger to the cold brick.

 

                A tiny, almost unnoticeable green light flashes.

               

                The door opens with a click, and Daichi can hear the heavy bass of the music from deep inside the place. 

 

                _This_ is Daishou’s home base?

 

                Cackling reaches his ears.

 

_“What’s wrong, boss? Don’t pussy out now!”_

 

                Daichi scowls at Noya’s remark.

 

                He knows he can’t respond back. It has to look like he’s completely alone.

 

                The earpiece was made to fit snuggly in his ear, hidden by his hair, so he’s not given away.

 

                Iwaizumi’s voice is the last he hears before he steps into the lion’s den.

 

_“From this moment on, you are no longer Sawamura Daichi. Am I understood, **Shichirou Nobu**?”_

 

 

XXX

 

 

                The lilac sunhat with wide, sloping rims and lace designs suits Oikawa better than anyone.

 

                It reminds Suga of a certain red headed beauty from that one romance movie, _Titanic_ or something.

 

                “He’s not good for you.”

 

                Suga can’t think of something to retort.

 

                Oikawa’s eyes trail the jagged nail marks and bruises lining the milky skin of his neck.

 

                They land on a set of teeth like scars on the corner of Suga’s jaw, where it goes up to meet his earlobe.

 

                Suga lays a hand over his throat, almost defensively.

 

                “He’s not all that bad. It’s just…he gets stressed sometimes.”

 

                Oikawa doesn’t look convinced.

 

                Suga’s eyes travel to Asahi, who sat at a table near enough to intervene in case of an emergency, but far enough to not seem suspicious.

 

                The weather was lovely, a rich shade of the purest blue with large, soft looking clouds littering every here and there.

 

                The forecast said it was to storm that night.

 

                Suga leans back into his chair.

 

                Children’s laughter and the sounds of the river pass around them.

 

                They’re in their own bubble.

 

                “Love making isn’t supposed to make you cry and regret,” Oikawa says, twirling a strand of hair on his forefinger.

 

                Suga’s eyes trace the movement like a moth watching flames.

 

                When he doesn’t respond, Oikawa leans in to gently to run his fingertips over the hand print that wraps around Suga’s throat.

 

                “Jesus, what does he do? Fuck you into the mattress?”

 

                Suga shoves his hand away, perhaps with a little too much force.

 

                The brunette smirks.

 

                His hand wiggles forward until it rests on Suga’s thigh.

 

                The silver haired watches it as it caresses up and down his clothed skin.

 

                Oikawa edges in closer, practically flat on the table that sits slightly between them.

 

                Hot breaths flutter on his neck.

 

                “Come home with me, Kou-chan. Join Hajime and me tonight; after all, you know how long I’ve been trying to get you into my bed, love.”

 

                Suga swallows.

 

                He thinks of Suguru’s cold hands.

 

                He feels Oikawa’s warm ones run up up up until he _feels_ the heat on the curve of his groin.

 

                The grin on Oikawa’s lips tells him that he’s already given in.

 

                Soft lips press against his collarbone, and he can’t help but let out a small moan.

 

                “Is that a yes, Kou-chan?”

 

                Another nip at his neck.

 

                Suga’s body practically trembles with ache and want and lust and….

 

                Longing.

 

                He reaches up and fists Oikawa’s hair.

 

                “Yes, _yes_ , god, Oikawa.”

 

                The taller male kisses him then, all teeth and force.

 

                Suga gasps into their mouths, kissing back with just as much vigor.

 

                Oikawa tastes of sweet milk and gunpowder.

 

                A hand comes up to curl their fingers into his silvery locks.

 

                He lets out a groan, feeling it vibrate through his throat and to Oikawa’s lips.

 

                He tilts his head, practically throwing himself onto the other male.

 

                Oikawa chuckles, pulling back slightly to peck at Suga’s jaw, right on top of the bite mark.

 

                Suga tugs him closer, arms around his neck.

 

                “I’ll pick you up at 7, for dinner first,” the brunette says, smiling widely.

 

                Suga nods, pressing the back of his hand to his lips.

 

                Oikawa’s eyes flash to the ring.

 

                “New one? I thought he got you that sapphire one last week?”

 

                Suga hums.

 

                “Yeah, he did, didn’t he?”

 

                Oikawa tilts his head to look Suga in the eyes.

 

                “How much was this?”

 

                The silver haired man is silent for a long while.

 

                “A couple hundred thousand, I don’t know the exact price.”

 

                Oikawa lets out a low whistle.

 

                “Kou-chan, he’s doing this on purpose you know.” The brunette leans his chair back. “Either he’s bought all this for you because he loves you and is sorry for hurting you, or…. he’s trying to keep you from getting fed up and leaving.”

 

                Suga scoffs.

 

                “He’d kill me if I left, it’s against the contract. Besides, this is the only way that I can thank him.”

 

                Oikawa shakes his head.

 

                “You’re thanking him by being his stress reliever? This isn’t a healthy relationship. _And_ , it’s not like there’s someone pointing a gun at you at all times, forcing you to stay.”

 

                The brunette stands.

 

                “I gotta take my leave, love. Suguru-chan’s making me do _that_ type of job later. Some detective from America is ‘visiting’, so to speak,” Oikawa declares, laying down a couple of _kuna_ bills. “See you at seven.”

 

                    Suga stands to peck him on both cheeks. “Be careful. Bye, Oikawa.” 

                   

Before Oikawa leaves, he takes another glance at Suga.   

                 

“I liked that cream scarf you wore yesterday.”   

 

 

XXX                     

 

 

Daichi is honestly completely surprised to find that Daishou Suguru’s Prague base is an underground party house.                    

 

The disco ball in the center of the massive room reflected neon light everywhere.                    

 

It seemed like a high end rave party, most of the young mafia members wearing fancy suits and expensive dresses.                   

 

There were booths to the left of the room, where thick velvet curtains shielded prying eyes from the _activities_ that went on behind them.                     

 

Daichi keeps a passive expression on his face.                    

 

He knew his job, he had a mission.                    

 

He wasn’t going to fail this time.                                       

 

He was going to bring redemption for her. 

 

 _“Okay, **Shichirou Nobu** , you need to seduce a head person to get you the entrance to the main room.”_

 

He hears Noya’s shriek of laughter on the other end.  

 

 _“_ _Daichi, seduce someone? Funny! Really funny!”_                     

 

As he heads in the direction of the D.J., a couple of young women ogle at him.                    

 

He tries to ignore them. 

 

 _“Damn it, boss! You gotta not act so suspicious! Dance with them or something!”_                     

 

He bites his tongue to keep his retort to himself. Better to not rally up Noya.                     

 

Daichi turns to the women and gives them an inviting smile.                    

 

“Are you new around here? We’ve never seen you around before!” One of the women asks. She has a large tattoo of a sneering Komodo dragon curling from under her dress down to wrap around her leg.                     

 

Definitely mafia.                     

 

“I was transferred a day ago, from Japan,” he responds, pouring out charm. “Where are you beautiful ladies from?” 

 

 _“Jeez boss. Cheesy much?”_

 

 _“Shut the fuck up, Noya.”_                     

 

Iwaizumi sounds like he’s holding back laughter.                    

 

Another woman steps closer.                    

 

With her tantalizing smile, fancy velvet dress, and incredible tattoos, Daichi knew she had to be the _onna-oyabun_.                     

 

He bows respectfully.                    

 

“What’s your name?” She asks, running a hand over his suit collar fold.                     

 

She has amber eyes.                    

 

“Shichirou Nobu, _onna-oyabun_.”                     

 

She smiles.                    

 

“You have a good eye.”                    

 

He inclines his head. 

 

 _“_ _Jackpot, Daichi, jackpot! If you can get me her name, even better!”_

 

Yamaguchi is tapping away at his computer fiercely.                     

 

This woman was dangerous, Daichi concludes.                    

 

The people around them had moved to give them their own personal sphere.                                       

 

“ _Onna-oyabun_ , now that I’ve given you a name, may I have yours to address you more intimately?” he questions, taking her hand to press a kiss to her wrist.                    

 

She raises an eyebrow, and then she smiles.                    

 

“Call me Ryouchu Nana.”                     

 

Daichi gives her his brightest smile.                    

 

“Nana-sama, then.”  

 

 _“Ohhh, I cannot believe she actually gave you her real name! I’ve got all her info right here!”_                     

 

Her crimson lips spread more.                    

 

“Nobu-san, then.”                    

 

He releases her hand.                    

 

Nana waves her hand to the other two.                     

 

“Leave us.” As they saunter away, she turns to Daichi. “Nobu-san, would you be kind enough to escort me to the upper room? My knees have been aching for a while now.” 

 

 _“_ _Holy shit!”_

 

Iwaizumi sounds eclectic.                     

 

Daichi doesn’t point out the fact that she waved away her two servants.                    

 

He takes her by her elbow, noticing her staggering height.                     

 

She chuckles.                    

 

“I like you, Nobu-san. Would you care to give a lonely girl some company?”                    

 

Her eyelashes are long and auburn colored, like her voluminous hair.  

 

 _“Damn, Captain Daichi’s got some moves.”_

 

“Of course, Nana-sama. No one can resist someone as beautiful as you.”                    

 

Nana laughs this time.                    

 

They head past the D.J. booth and towards a stair well that was hidden strategically from the crowds’ eyes.                    

 

The door at the top of the stairs open to reveal a well clad waiter.                     

 

He takes one look at Nana and bows.                    

 

He allows them to pass, eyes not daring to move up to meet hers.                    

 

She takes Daichi by the arm.                    

 

They pass door after door until they reach the largest door in the winding hall.                    

 

It’s labeled “D.S.”.                    

 

Daichi hates how close it is to his own initials.                     

 

He hears Yamaguchi’s whistle from the earpiece.  

 

 _“_ _This is it.”_                     

 

Nana smiles sultrily as she pushes the door open.                    

 

“Come inside, Nobu-san.”                    

 

Daichi shoots her a charming smile.                    

 

“Make yourself at home! Let me go get some liquor. God knows my _oyabun_ has plenty,” she says before heading to the bar.                     

 

Her _oyabun_?                    

 

So, Daishou had a wife? Girlfriend?                     

 

And here Daichi thought that Sugawara Koushi had been his…                     

 

His what?                    

 

Who exactly did Daichi think Sugawara was to Daishou?                     

 

The room is most definitely high class, with a complete chandelier hanging in the middle of the room.                    

 

L.E.D. lights hang in a rectangular shape, hidden behind the ceiling molding.                     

 

Beautiful marble wallpaper paints the furthest wall from the entrance, while the left wooden wall opens to a king sized bed.                     

 

To Daichi’s right is a wall of glass that open up to the Vltava River.                     

 

There’s a flat glass table with a vase of large white flowers, framed by comfortable looking black sofas and teal chairs.                     

 

It’s a regal room, and as much as he doesn’t want to admit it, Daichi has no difficulty imagining Daishou Suguru lounging in a place like this.                     

 

“You have a nice place, Nana-sama,” he says, glancing back to find that there was a wall separating them.                    

 

 “Thank you; it’s a gift from _oyabun_.”                    

 

Daichi hums in agreement, making his way towards the drawers at the left corner.  

 

 _“Look for a file. Any file. Daishou has to keep something in here. Just give us enough time to see it through your lens.”_                   

 

 “Nana-sama, did you design any of this?” he calls, trying to not sound suspicious.                     

 

He hears her chuckle.                    

 

“The wall paper was all he let me design. Do you like it?”                    

 

“I love it, very classy.”                    

 

Nana clicks her tongue, but in a pleased manner.                     

 

“Exactly! That’s what I try to tell him, but he thinks his view is the best. That vain man!”                     

 

Daichi reaches the mahogany desk and wardrobe. 

 

 _“Something’s not right.”_

 

Iwaizumi voices his thoughts.                    

 

There’s a binder on the desk.                     

 

Daichi opens it and frowns down at the file of a gorgeous looking brunette boy, not very different from that Sugawara Koushi.                    

 

Nana’s voice rings out.                    

 

“Nobu-san, do you like your scotch with ice?”                    

 

He hums to draw time, flipping through the pages.                    

 

“Yes, please, Nana-sama.”                    

 

She grunts in agreement.                     

 

Daichi’s frown deepens.                     

 

Who the hell was Oikawa Tooru?                     

 

Is he another suspect?                    

 

Why did he look so familiar?                    

 

Amber eyes. Amber hair. 

 

 _“_ _Oh shit.”_

 

That’s right, Yamaguchi, Noya, Iwaizumi.                    

 

Oh shit.                    

 

Daichi becomes aware of Nana’s presence in the room.                    

 

He keeps his back to her.                     

 

No. Him.                    

 

“Daishou Suguru is your _oyabun_ , but…you’re not the _onna-oyabun_ , right, _Oikawa Tooru_?”                     

 

Daichi turns.                    

 

Oikawa’s wig is gone, as well as his dress.                    

 

He stood, will his milky skin exposed in his tight spandex lingerie.                    

 

He stands inches taller than Daichi in his black pumps.                     

 

The garter belt squeezes his thighs.                     

 

Oikawa smiles, leaning his weight onto one leg.                    

 

Daichi swallows.                    

 

He’d be lying if he said that Oikawa wasn’t tempting.                    

 

But the gruesome scenes of his mafia tattoo carving around his shoulder and to his back remind Daichi of who he is.                     

 

“Did you like my little act, Sawamura Daichi? I actually liked little Miss Nana. Until she got in my way, that is. I killed her.”                     

 

A smile plays on his rouge painted lips.                    

 

“Do you know how I did that, Daichi baby?”  

 

 _“Fuck, Daichi! Get out of there now!”_                     

 

In a split second they both lunge.  

 

 

 XXX                     

 

 

Suga leans against the bridge, looking down into its dark water.                     

 

His watch tells him it’s almost six.                    

 

He should head back now. Oikawa was picking him up later.                    

 

Suga sits down, letting his feet dangle off the bridge.                    

 

There are not a lot of people here, where the water was shallow.                    

 

Most people preferred to go to the main bridge, where tourists stayed.                

 

Suga rests his forehead on the coolness of the wooden rail.                     

 

Just below him, shaded by the bridge, there’s an unused sewage opening.                     

 

He lets his eyes roam to the distance, where he can see the mountains sloping towards the dying sun.                    

 

Land of the rising sun.                    

 

Oh, how he wants to go back, see his parents again.                    

 

That is, if they were still alive.                     

 

But that’s against the contract, isn’t it?                     

 

A rattling sound jolts him out of his daze.                    

 

He immediately reaches for his side, where his holster rests.                    

 

Someone jumps out of the sewage opening, coughing.                    

 

He was in a ripped suit, hair mused.                    

 

Suga decides to be friendly.                    

 

“I hope you didn’t meet any alligators in there,” he asks in English, figuring the man would know the commonly spoken language.                     

 

The man looks around.                     

 

“Who—?”                    

 

Suga laughs.                     

 

“Above you.”                    

 

When the man looks up, Suga stops.                    

 

“It’s you! From the café!”                    

 

The man squints a little.                    

 

  Suga finds it endearing.                    

 

“Ah! Mr. Gorgeous, with the books, right?”                    

 

Suga laughs.                     

 

“I think that’s me, though the gorgeous part…”                    

 

The brunette gives him a bright smile.                                       

 

“I don’t think sewers have alligators. Isn’t that an urban legend?”                    

 

Suga blinks.                     

 

“Is it? Well, that’s fortunate, isn’t it?”                    

 

He stands and leans over the railing to look down at the man.                    

 

“What were you doing in there, anyways? It’s dangerous, you know!”                     

 

The man chuckles.                    

 

“Shh, don’t say! I’m on a secret mission.”                    

 

Suga chuckles, then.                    

 

“Of course! You’re a spy sent by the Russians to hack into the Croatian government.”                    

 

It’s odd how easily he can talk to this man.                    

 

The man laughs again.                    

 

“I’m Daichi, by the way. And you left your scarf yesterday; it’s in my shirt pocket.”                    

 

“Call me Suga. I was wondering where I left it. You kept it with you?”                    

 

Daichi nods.                     

 

“I thought, if I saw you again, I’d return it. Would you like it back now?”                    

 

Suga looks at the gap between them.                    

 

“And how are you going to get up here, Daichi?”                    

 

The brunette flushes.                    

 

“I was getting there.”                    

 

He looks around.                    

 

Suga sees a ladder.                     

 

“Over there, Mr. Spy, the ladder.”                    

 

Daichi sends him a dazzling smile as thanks.                    

 

When he comes around to the bridge, he stops in front of Suga.                    

 

He kneels, pulling out the scarf from his breast pocket and presenting it, like a knight to a maiden.                    

 

Suga presses a hand over his lips to keep from laughing.                     

 

He likes this stranger.                    

 

“Oh, lovely maid, except my token.”                    

 

Suga curtsies.                     

 

“I cannot, dear knight.”                    

 

Daichi looks up.                    

 

“You don’t want it back?”                    

 

Suga pauses.                    

 

“Nope, because if I take it back, we won’t have a reason to talk again.”                                  

 

Daichi blushes.                    

 

“Who says we won’t?”                    

 

Suga smiles warmly.                    

 

“You’re right.”                    

 

“So… the scarf…”                    

 

Suga pushes it back.                    

 

“Hold on to it for a while longer, Mr. Spy. As a safekeeping for your next mission.”                    

 

Daichi smiles at him.                    

 

“Of course, Suga.”                    

 

Suga laughs.                    

 

“If you don’t mind, I’m going to head home for the day. You might want to go home and take a bath.”                    

 

Daichi pretends to look indignant.                     

 

“Are you trying to imply something, good sir?”                    

 

They burst into giggles.                    

 

“No no, you smell good, Daichi, don’t worry. As long as the girls don’t breathe, that is.”                    

 

Another round of giggles.                     

 

Daichi straightens first.                    

 

“Well, I’m going to take your advice and soak in my bathtub.”                             

 

Suga smiles. “A secret spy bathtub.”                    

 

“Exactly.”                    

 

Before they part, Suga turns.                    

 

“I think I’ll be at the café again, tomorrow.”                    

 

Daichi returns his grin.                   

 

  “I might coincidentally be there, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How was it??!?!!?!!?!??
> 
> Oikawa's good isn't he??
> 
> Also, how do y'all think about a OiSuga scene next chapter?  
> Nothin too graphic, but sex, indeed. *wiggles eyebrows* ;););)

**Author's Note:**

> HOW WAS IT?!?!?!
> 
> The first some chapters will be introduction. The plot will begin later. 
> 
> For now, what'd you guys think? :):):)


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